Walter and the Wireless

by Sara Ware Bassett

In his rough, grimy hand the telegraph operator took it.

"Where did you get this?" demanded he, glancing sharply over the top of his spectacles.

"Why, we have a wireless up at Surfside and this thing—or something like it that we didn't know enough to write down, came this morning."

"But I heard your brother Bob was up there."

"He had to go to New York yesterday."

"And left you to tend the tape, did he?" grinned the old man.

"Not much. He knows I'd be a duffer at the job," affirmed Walter.

"Mebbe you ain't as much of a duffer as you think. You managed to get this down on paper."

"We managed to together—Dick and I," explained Walter. "I don't suppose, though, we got it anywhere near straight. Does it make any sense at all?"

"Sure it makes sense!" announced Mr. Burns with a vim that quite took Walter's breath away. "There's queer spots in it here and there—a few letters that ain't needed, perhaps. Still, you can omit 'em since they serve no particular purpose."